


Routine

by misumaru



Category: Togainu no Chi
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Rape/Non-con Elements, Referenced Akira/Gunji, Referenced Akira/Kiriwar, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25419385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misumaru/pseuds/misumaru
Summary: It might be morning. Akira isn’t sure.Or, how Akira spends his days locked up in Arbitro's cells.
Relationships: Akira/Arbitro (Togainu no Chi), Arbitro/Kau (Togainu no Chi)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LdyBastet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LdyBastet/gifts).



> A little gift for LdyBastet - happy birthday, sweetie! :D I'm sorry I can't be there, but I promise we'll have an even bigger and better celebration once I can finally get to you! :D
> 
> Set after Arbitro's ending. Contains references to non-con, body modification, violence, and sexual slavery.

It might be morning. Akira isn’t sure.

Regardless of what the Toshima sky is showing beyond his windowless cell, he assumes it’s morning because this is how his day begins. Someone brings him breakfast. If he’s lucky, it’ll be one of Arbitro’s faceless, masked goons. All they do is toss him the food and leave. They know their place. If he’s unlucky, it’ll be Gunji. Akira’s forever grateful that those nasty claws of his are banned from the cell – Arbitro refuses to let anyone else permanently mar his new project, after all – but that doesn’t stop Gunji from getting too enthusiastic about “playing with the kitty”. Or loud. Akira’s always left bleeding by the time he leaves. If he’s _really_ unlucky, it’ll be Kiriwar, who looms over Akira after setting the food down on the floor and watches Akira scrabble to get it, licking his lips as if he’d like nothing more than to take a bite out of Akira himself. To take a big juicy chunk out of his shoulder even as he fucks him. Maybe one day he will.

The morning is then his, to either sit and stare at the walls or to try and recover from whatever punishment he received at breakfast. When the pain from whatever new cuts and bruises he’s received gets too much, his hand automatically goes to touch himself. Akira wasn’t sure when it started, when he needed the accompanying sting of pain to get himself off, but he’s too far gone to try and stop now. Whatever shame he used to feel is a distant memory as he gasps and moans and presses down on the damage just to feel it that little bit more. He used to be handcuffed to the wall, however long ago this new life of his started, but Arbitro was happy loosen his chains to encourage this behaviour. It was a valuable part of Akira’s training, he’d said.

Kau visits him at lunch. It’s the sole bright spot of Akira’s day. He used to find Kau’s strange wheezing way of communicating disturbing, but now it’s almost comforting. Kau doesn’t try to hurt him, doesn’t do anything more than curl up next to Akira, wheezing quietly as he rests his head against Akira’s side or in his lap. Akira knows deep down that this is Arbitro’s doing too, that he’s sent his beloved masterpiece in there to ensure that his newest pet plays well with others, but Akira can’t bring himself to care. It’s just nice to pretend he still has a friend. 

Afternoon or evening, whenever his business is finally done, is when Arbitro finally makes an appearance. It always means more pain. He used to drug Akira, back at the start, strong aphrodisiacs that would leave Akira’s head spinning with how badly he needed to get off, but now a firm pinch or twist of a nipple is all he needs to get fully hard. It never fails to amuse Arbitro, telling Akira what a good boy he is and how it’s so much better to be obedient. Akira nods along with him – it’s not like he has much choice. 

Sometimes he does more than just play with Akira though, sometimes he decides it’s time to operate. Akira doesn’t enjoy those days – not because of the surgery, which should worry him more than it does, but because it means he loses what little grasp of time he has. There’s a scar on his stomach that wasn’t there at the start of this, Arbitro’s trademark. Akira often wonders what he’s planning next. Hopefully not his eyes, there might not be much to see in his cell but the thought of losing them still turns his stomach, but his voice… Maybe he wouldn’t mind that so much. It’s not like he uses it much now. 

Whatever Arbitro decides, it’s the end of his day. Akira’s dumped back in the corner of his dark little cell as Arbitro walks away calling for Kau. One day, once his modifications are finished, Akira might be taken away and installed in Arbitro’s private rooms instead, to be pampered like Kau is, but not yet. His training is still far from finished. 

Akira closes his eyes and sinks blissfully into unconsciousness. All he can do is wait for morning again.


End file.
